


In the Light

by AndyBoy



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti)
Genre: Character Study, Drabble, Gen, Quaker Mike Hanlon, Quakerism, Religion, i guess, this is MY headcanon and i will DEFEND it to the DEATH
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-24
Updated: 2020-06-24
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:41:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24887011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndyBoy/pseuds/AndyBoy
Summary: Mike Hanlon attends a meeting of the religious society of friends.AKA. I'm a quaker and the quaker mike headcanon is 100% in character and more people should know about it.also I wrote this in December and just. legitimately forgot to post it so I'm just throwing it into the void in hopes that someone gets something out of it
Kudos: 2





	In the Light

**Author's Note:**

> exactly what it says on the tin

Mike pulled up outside the meetinghouse at 10:56, locking his bike carefully into place in the bike rack outside. The bike rack that had been specifically installed the year prior, for him and the handful of other kids who attended meeting. He smiled briefly at the memory of the fundraiser that had been held. Meeting was just full of people who cared.

He jogged around behind the meetinghouse, hopping up the backstairs quickly to enter through the backdoor. He closed the door softly behind him.

“Michael!” a familiar voice greeted.

Mike grinned. “Hello Mrs. Collins, how are the rose bushes?”

“Oh, they’re just fine. Thank you again for helping me with the fertilizer, you know my old back just isn’t what it used to be. I’ve been getting old.”

Mike laughed politely. “It doesn’t show,” he said.

Mrs. Collins smiled and patted Mike briefly on the cheek. “Such a polite young man, flattering an old lady.”

A handful of other meeting-goers were milling about in the back room, chatting quietly.

“Most of us have already migrated into the meeting room,” Mrs. Collins said. “It’s only two minutes until 11.”

“Shall we head in, then?” Mike asked, offering his arm.

Mrs. Collins laughed. “How chivalrous, Michael!” she said, laying her hand in the crook of his elbow.

Mike walked the woman in, easing her onto the pew closest to the door. He knew she favored the ones with cushions on the seats. He smiled encouragingly before crossing the room to take his seat in the second row.

The pews in the meetinghouse were arranged in a diamond position, surrounding a small table with a large vase of flowers in the center of the room. No one person was given precedence over another, and no one minded where people sat. Mike always thought of it as a bit like the Round Table.

Jean Fletcher smiled at him from her spot in the front row across the diamond from him, and Mike leaned around Jack Garfield’s head to return the smile. 

Nobody spoke, of course.

Mike rested his hands on his knees and closed his eyes. He heard the door open, and the soft pad of a few more footsteps coming into the room, and the gentle creak of old pews as people sat down.

He reached over and picked up that week’s program, a simple two-page leaflet folded into a book shape, with information about meeting that week.

_ Please hold our dear Friend Fred Osborn in the light this week as he goes into knee surgery. _

Mike made a mental note to give Fred, a kind middle-aged man who’s son used to babysit Mike, a spot in the light that week.

_ The Sunday school teacher for this week is Maryanne Hawthorne. Sunday School will begin at 11:15. All children under the age of 10 are requested to attend. All children under the age of 18 are permitted to attend.  _

Mike had stopped attending Sunday school on his 10th birthday, which had fallen on a Sunday. The first time he chose to sit through the whole meeting was a statement about his age, but he quickly found that he preferred the meeting to sunday school.

_ Next week, there will be a potluck following the meeting to celebrate Fred’s hopefully successful knee surgery—reminder that some of our Friends at this meeting are vegetarian, and we request that you consider providing a meat-free dish for their sake. _

Mike smiled softly. Although this note was on the end of every potluck announcement (and Quakers held a  _ lot  _ of potlucks), it still made him feel warm every time he saw it. Jean Fletcher, who organized meeting and wrote the programs, had only to hear that Mike was vegetarian once before she began to add that note at the end of every food-related announcement.

Mike put the program down, not seeing much else that was interesting.

The faint buzzing of the overhead lights wound its way through Mike’s ears, and he let himself focus on the sound for a while.

He closed his eyes and took a slow, steady breath. Around him, the souls of the Friends were shining, bright and strong and beautiful.

Mike let his own light out to join them. 

And the light in the center of the room, the light from above, the light from the Friends, the light from the earth, it shone brighter and brighter in Mike’s closed eyes.

He smiled softly.

He held Fred Osborn in the light, thinking of Fred’s curly gray hair and neatly trimmed beard. He held Fred in the light, letting it shine through him, sending it to wherever Fred may be. He could tell he wasn’t the only one holding Fred in the light.

Next, Mike held his parents in the light. After they had died, he had spent a week straight holding them in the light, but now he only needed to take a moment. It was a way to reconnect with them, to remind him that they were still there. He could always feel their light in return.

He held Bill Denbrough in the light, his friend Bill, who was strong and brave and brash. Bill, who had a much bigger heart than he was willing to let on. Mike held him in the light, and hoped that Bill could feel it.

He held Beverly Marsh in the light, Bev who was fiery and fierce, who never took ‘no’ for an answer. Bev, who never made Mike feel left out or forgotten. He held her in the light.

He held Richie Tozier in the light, god knows that boy needed it. Richie, who was loud and had no filter, Richie who  _ cared  _ so deeply. Mike held him in the light.

He held Stanley Uris in the light, Stan who was reserved and determined, who was stubborn and intelligent, who always made sure Mike was safe. He held Stan in the light.

He held Ben Hanscom in the light, Ben who was insecure and soft, who was diligent and caring. Ben, who laughed at Mike’s jokes, even when they were bad. He held him in the light.

He held Eddie Kaspbrak in the light, Eddie who was angry and fast-paced, who never stopped moving or overthinking, who stood up to his mother. He held him in the light.

Mike held himself in the light, because sometimes he needed to, and there was nothing wrong with that. He held himself in the light and let himself feel the bright energy shift through him, and let himself feel healed.

**Author's Note:**

> im actually hyperfixated on atla rn so i might post some fanfic of that eventually 
> 
> contact me on Tumblr @aguecheek 
> 
> or dm me to talk about Quakerism!! I'm proud of my religion and I love to talk about it :)


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